


Embrace of the Endless Ocean

by Eboni_Napalm



Category: Titanic (1997), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Chronicles Simon Belmont, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 22:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19037104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eboni_Napalm/pseuds/Eboni_Napalm
Summary: She's a wealthy, yet unhappy high-class woman in a forced engagement to keep her family's status and stability in the black.He's a destitute, but lucky artistic man with a simple dream and a vast love for adventure and yearning for something more.A chance meeting on the so-called "Ship of Dreams" can, and will, change everything for both of them- for better and for worse. Disaster will strike, tragedy will emerge, lives will be lost.They can only hope that their newfound love is strong enough to will them both to escape and endure.But the danger is high, death looks them straight in the eye, and they will have to fight to their last breath if they want to make it out alive.It just might not be together.(CASTLEVANIA/TITANIC CROSSOVER. LOOSELY FOLLOWS THE PLOT OF THE 1997 MOVIE, WITH SOME CHANGES.)





	1. One

**_Elise_**  
  
"I don't exactly understand what the fuss is all about," I murmured aloud, staring up at the immaculate liner that laid dormant on the water in front of me. "Yes, it's impressive enough, but it doesn't seem that much bigger than the Mauritania." 

Behind my ivory lace umbrella, a chuckle made its way to my ears and the form of my handsome fiance caught my gaze from the left, his rich, auburn red hair framing his sharp, defined face. "Surely, you can be a little less critical of the wonder that is the Titanic, dear Elisabeth," Walter Bernhard's voice, a smooth, honey-laced baritone, hummed out proudly. "It's actually one hundred feet longer than Mauritania. And much more luxurious, as I'm sure you'll come to find."

I turned away with a closed-lipped smile, looking back at the ship I would be boarding in a matter of mere minutes. The beauty of the large, white vessel, lined with black and gold along a polished, chestnut brown deck and railings, with four massive cylindrical pillars that gently billowed puffs of dark grey smoke was certainly a sight to behold. Around me, the bustle of hundreds of other potential passengers waiting in line for a swift health inspection, and ship workers directing luggage and crates to the appropriate cargo hulls and rooms onboard.

A soft rustle of fabric, and my mother was then at my side. "So," she mused, adjusting the wide brim of her hat. "This is the ship they say not even God himself could sink."

"A common moniker, it seems," Walter voiced in reply, briefly glancing down at the golden pocket watch in his hand before offering his hand to me. "Shall we, ladies?"

Arm in arm, I kept pace close to Walter, trailing just a foot or two behind my mother as we ascended the ramp up to the First Class entrance of the liner.  


Titanic. It was the "Ship of Dreams", to most who laid eye on it. However, to me, it was a foreboding curse. One that would take me back to my home in America, yes, but not without bound in figurative shackles and cuffs. Enslaved to fate, and whatever came with it.

I was perfectly calm, poised, and respectable on the outside, yes. As a proper young woman should be.

On the inside, I was crying. Pleading. Begging to be let out. Screaming to be freed.

But of course, no help came from my silent prayers. None whatsoever.

 

 

_**Simon** _

I could hear the insults being tossed across the table from the two other gentlemen seated opposite me, but paid them no mind. My focus was on what laid in my hands, perched carefully between my fingers.

A simple game of Poker. To my left, my closest friend Adrian, blonde hair pulled back in an unkempt ponytail. At the other end of the round table, a slim, copper-haired male named Issac, and a black-haired, quiet individual called Mathias. Scattered in the center, the bets, and subsequently, the prize: a hearty handful of silver coin, and nestled on top, two Third Class tickets for the maiden voyage of the Titanic. 

The adventure of a lifetime awaited, I just had to hold out hope that luck was on my side.

I blew a delicate strand of long, bright red hair from my face. "Issac?" I called out, glancing over at the hotheaded ginger. In response, he passed over a card from his hand to trade with one of mine, which I slowly placed on the discard pile before drawing a replacement. "Moment of truth, men. Somebody's life is changing forever... let's see 'em."

Calmly, Adrian placed his cards face-down in front of him. "I have nothing," he stated quietly.

Immediately after, Mathias scrunched up his lips in frustration before too, folding his hand.

My eyes darted to my right.

Issac, as confidently as he could seem, laid his cards up on the table. A Two Pair stared me dead in the face.

I blinked.

A sigh left my lips as I turned to my companion. "I'm sorry, Adrian," I spoke in a mild hush.

"Idiot," the blonde chastised me. "You bet the last of our money, why would you-"

"I'm sorry," I continued, my mouth curving into a smile. "That you won't be seeing your parents for a long, long time." With that, I slammed my cards down. "Full House, boys! We're going to America!"

Amongst the commotion and cheers from Adrian, I was able to watch Mathias punch the smaller man square in the nose and quickly gathered up the pile of coins in a small bag. After being informed that the ship would leave port in five minutes, I nearly pulled Adrian's arm from its socket as we nearly flew out the tavern door and down the dock.

"Come on, I thought you said you could keep up!" I joked to the blonde as I ran as fast as I could for the Third Class entrance. "Were you lying about being fast?"

A couple of strides behind me, Adrian scoffed with a grin. "Shut up and keep running, Simon!"

Finally reaching the last ramp with an open door, I sped up and almost flew to the edge of the entryway. "Hold on, we're passengers, we have tickets!" I shouted out to the ship officer, handing him the thick slips of paper. 

He gave them a quick eye, then glanced back up. "Have you been through the inspection line yet?"

I had to try not to roll my eyes. "Of course we have. We don't have lice anyway, we're both Americans."

A nod of affirmation and approval, and he stepped aside to allow us to hop the gap from the ramp into the ship. Whipping around corners and through the residential hallways, Adrian clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You are the luckiest son of a bitch I know, Belmont," he laughed, shaking me lightly before we slowed down to avoid roughly bumping into other people, scanning the walls for the room number listed on the tickets.

"G-60, where is it..." I mumbled, before rounding a corner and looking up. "Oh, right here!"

Opening the door, Adrian lightly pushed past me to place his bags on the topmost bed of the remaining bunk in the room. Occupying the other one were two other men, surprisingly around our age- one with hair as white as clouds, and the other with dirty blonde hair tied up in a small bun. "...Where's Issac?" the white-haired one spoke up.

I plopped the large sack with my clothes and other belongings on the bottom bunk. "Hate to disappoint," I replied, "but we won their tickets in a lucky round of Poker. Shouldn't have bet them if you wanted to keep them that badly."

To my thankful surprise, a smile graced his face. "Well, at least we'll have much better company now," he held out a hand to me. "I'm Soma Cruz. This one over here," he accented the statement with a playful nudge to the other's leg. "Is Jonathan Morris."

"Pleasure to meet you both," I rebuked with a firm handshake. "I'm Simon Belmont, and this is Adrian Tepes."

"Make yourselves at home then, I suppose," Jonathan spoke up, resting his legs on the edge of his bunk. "It's gonna be a long few days of sleeping on mattresses thin enough for a crib. Third Class life, eh?"

A unanimous chuckle rang through the thin walls of the room. My luck was finally changing for the better. 

 

 

The sun had risen to its highest point, a crisp afternoon shining down upon the Atlantic. Still on a high wave of excitement, Simon and Adrian had darted out onto the deck, racing to the ship's bow and gazing down at the waters of the ocean, flying past them like a knife cutting through a mass of blue lava.

Eyes lighting up, Simon pointed down to the sea. "Look, Adrian look! Down there!" Where his finger had gestured, a small pod of white-sided dolphins were keeping perfect pace with the ship as it sped along the water, almost as if they were racing it.

Despite his hair hitting his face from the wind, Adrian pulled the redhead over more towards where he stood. "This one, look, look at him jump!" Just as he spoke, one of the porpoises arched out of the water, jumping in a perfect semi-circle before splashing back into the sea. Two more followed shortly after, leaping out in a somewhat criss-cross motion, their tails slapping the surface of the ocean.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already," the blonde joked with a smile. "It's quite small, still, but it's there."

With an ear-to-ear smile, Simon stepped up onto the thin bars underneath the barricade railing, spreading his arms out and taking in the feel of the fresh air and splash of ocean. The twinkle in his hazel eyes was full of infectious joy, and at that moment, he knew.

He was on top of the world, and nothing would bring him down.

 


	2. Two

__**Elise**  
  
  
Seated at a small table with a delicate, lace cloth to cover it, the talk of how the ship itself came to be from the designer and builder, Thomas Andrews, despite reaching my ears, was droned out to the clutter of thoughts in my brain. I was silent, so as to not draw too much attention to myself and my inner struggles.

I had half a mind to take out the small smoking pipe from the pocket of my shawl, which laid across the back of my chair, but I decided against it, as I had already upset my mother somewhat by choosing to wear one of my favorite blue dressed instead of the frilly white one she had initially insisted I wear. 

The arrival of the waiter was the only thing to break my reverie. To my left, Walter offered me a brief glance and a soft smile before speaking. "We'll both have the lamb," he stated, "Medium rare, with just a small amount of mint sauce." He then turned to me again, his light brown eyes casting a deceivingly benevolent gleam in the light. "You like lamb, don't you dearest?"

I gave him a smile, only half genuine. While I didn't mind him doing things for me on the occasion, Walter did not have to speak for me every time.

Across from me, an acquaintance of my mother's (the only one to really grow on me) lifted her head up to eye my fiance with a joking smile. "Are you going to cut her food for her too, Walter?"

While he pursed his lips slightly and turned away, I stifled a small laugh. Sypha Belnades, a bold, headstrong woman with strawberry-blonde hair to match her spitfire attitude. "By the way, who was it that actually came up with the name, 'Titanic'?" she questioned. "It's actually quite interesting."

"That would be me," at the far left end of the table, J. Bruce Ismay proudly leaned forward with a tinge of pride very evident in his voice. "I wanted a name that truly went along with the sheer size. A size that meant... stability, luxury, strength even."

I rolled my eyes. What a prick.

"Are you familiar with Doctor Freud, Mister Ismay?" I finally spoke up, turning my head to meet the obnoxiously wealthy man's gaze. "His ideas about the size of the male preoccupation might possibly be of some interest to you."

Out of the corner of my eye, Sypha and Andrews smiled to themselves, each attempting to hold back a genuine chuckle from my inappropriate comment.

My mother stared at me, mouth agape in disappointment. "What in the world has gotten into you, Elisabeth?"

I paid her no mind and gave her no response, instead excusing myself from the table and walking off, out of the dining hall, sincerely hoping no one was about to follow me.

 

 

__**Simon**  
  
  
"Irish? Really?" I heard Adrian muse in earnest surprise. "I could have sworn this was an English ship."

The other male he was speaking to shook his head and grinned. "Not the case, my friend," he informed with a smooth voice. "Fifteen thousand Irishmen proudly built this ship. It may be leaving from England, but Ireland's home base." A stomp of his black boot on the wooden deck. "Solid as a rock, too."

Hector Laforeze, with a soft face and silver hair to his shoulders to match, was actually staying in the room directly across from ours. Just as with Soma and Jonathan, we became quick friends and were now spending the early evening on the Third Class deck. The people surrounding us were all unique and brimming with life, from all different walks. I was silently thanking myself for remembering to bring my sketchbook out with me, my hands skimming over the thick paper with a piece of black graphite charcoal nestled in my fingers, shading in the shadows of the sketch of a father and daughter looking over the railing out to the sea.

My eyes trailed over to the sight of three dogs- an Afghan Hound, a small black Pug, and a chocolate-colored Retriever, strolling past the three of us, all handled by a ship officer in dark blue uniform.

Hector groaned out in slight annoyance. "That's typical," he muttered. "First Class dogs walking through the Third Class deck just to take a shit." He exhaled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Lets us know where we stand in the scheme of things, doesn't it?" I drawled out slowly, testing the waters with a wary smile.

The silver-haired male chuckled lightly. "Like we could forget," he replied, pausing before looking back towards me and gesturing down to the book in my lap. "Do you make money from your drawings at all, Simon?"

I moved my hand to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. "On occasion," I said to him. "Ten cents apiece, if the situation's ever right."

"I wouldn't be afraid to charge a bit more, honestly," Hector suggested. "You seem to have a natural knack for it."

Adrian turned in my direction. "I've known him since he started," I heard him speak up. "Gone through five of those things already, even if they have lots of paper."

But whatever else he said was lost to my ears.

My eyes could only focus on one thing.

_Her._

 

Venturing outside to the deck of the vessel, Elise softly leaned against the bars of the railing, the gentle wind blowing through the locks of dark brown hair that were not currently held back by her ponytail ribbon. Despite the calmness of the air and the setting sun, something felt... odd. 

As if someone was watching her, almost.

Turning her head slightly to the left, she caught the gaze of a man- a handsome man- that looked to be just about her age, give or take a couple of years. And he was staring right back at her.

In an awkward moment, she turned back to her original position, but stopped, and allowed herself to gaze back at him again.

His hair, thick and straight, reached to just below his chest, and was a stunning bright red. Despite being in Third Class, he dressed decently enough; a button-up shirt, the color of rich plums, black suspenders, simple grey pants, and black boots. What stuck with her the most, however, were his eyes- a shade of golden hazel, they captivated her almost instantly.

They reminded her of Walter's eyes. But this man's eyes were so much kinder. Gazing into them, even from far away, Elise felt... safe.

And she didn't even know him.

She managed to see a silver-haired male next to him and a blonde turn to eye her for a brief second, then move back to the redhead. "Ahh, forget it," she heard him say, almost apologetically. "You'll have angels flying out your ass before you'd be able to get close to someone like her." In addition to that statement, the blonde to his left waved a hand in front of his face to attempt to gain his attention, but smiled when he knew there was no avail.

She almost smiled. The sight was somewhat endearing, despite the strangeness it held.

"Elisabeth, there you are!"

The sound of Walter's voice, worried but stern, caused the brunette to turn around and lock eyes with the tall auburn man approaching her. "You're lucky I found you, your mother's in a huff about that stunt you pulled. She wants you back at the table."

A groan left her lips. "I can't get a little air to clear my head, Walter?" she questioned, her volume growing.

The man in front of her laid a heavy hand on her arm. "Just... humor her, Elisabeth," he stated. "And don't raise your voice. Besides, your lamb is waiting for you. Come on."

With a heavy sigh, Elise bowed her head in defeat and allowed her fiance to lead her back into the dining hall.

But not without one final glance back at the redheaded male on the lower deck.

 


	3. Three

_**Elise**_  
  
  
I was never the biggest fan of extremely lavish parties and gatherings, especially if there were multiple on the same day all thrust upon me. Like today.

Almost immediately after dinner was finished, I had to change into yet another dress (black this time around) and, again, sit daintily at a small table surrounded by First Class passengers and royalty, in a room that seemed thick and heavy with strong perfumes and the stench of cigars. A group of girls around the same age as me were circled around my form, ogling and gushing over the large, gleaming, expensive diamond engagement ring on my finger. Compliments flooded my ears on how beautiful the piece of jewelry was, and how lucky I was to have such a wonderful, handsome man like Walter Bernhard as my soon-to-be husband.

But I did not share their sentiments.

My engagement to him was not of my own will or volition. It was an arranged marriage, of course made by my mother. I had no say in the finalization of the engagement; I simply had to nod my head like a good girl and accept it. And sure, the auburn man may definitely be nice on the eyes, but looks alone would not make a happy union. This I knew. Mother did what she did solely for greed. While our family's income and fortune were nowhere near the red, the desire for stability for the future drove her to search out a future spouse for me who would secure my financial future. 

My inner happiness was never truly taken into account.

And now, as I sat surrounded by my mother, Walter, and numerous other strangers who settled into their mindless chatter seemed to pay no mind or attention to me, everything came crashing down all at once.

I was ignored. Invisible. Alone. No one bothered to care. No one noticed.

No one to pull me back from my plight.

I snuck away, and as soon as I was out of sight, with tears spilling down my face, I ran for the deck.

 

 

 _ **Simon**_  
  
  
Nighttime came, and the Third Class deck was nearly scarce, save for the occasional middle-aged passenger who would step out for a moment or two to admire the stars that dotted the sea of black above our heads. I had taken to laying on one of the benches near the front end of the ship, gazing up at the sky as I absentmindedly fiddled with the toothpick lodged delicately in my mouth.

It was a peaceful sight, this night.

But the sound of light, rapidly approaching footsteps caused me to pause and sit up from my position. The source of the noise was another person, that much was obvious, but who would be-

It was the girl from before.

The one from First Class.

Her thin high heels clapped softly on the wooden surface of the deck floor, her strides small so as to not trip over the hem of her floor-length dress, which was as black as the bottom of the sea. Silent sobs of grief fell from her lips, and from the stains on her cheeks, I could tell she had been, or still was, crying. Her warm chestnut hair, which had been smooth and tied back elegantly earlier, was now flowing freely down to just past her shoulders, flying softly from the breeze in the air. 

She slowly approached the edge of the bow, placing her hands on the railing.

She started to climb over the edge of the barricade.

Something in me snapped.

Without even realizing, my body was moving on its own. But I soon figured out why. And I didn't argue.

I stood up from the bench.

 

The dark, rapidly rushing waters of the ocean below seemed too far for comfort, but to Elise, it was one moment away from release. From leaving the life she no longer wanted behind. One step closer to freedom. All she had to do was jump. Let go.

And yet, something inside her made her stop. 

What would happen if she were to do this, after she was gone? What would her mother say? Would she miss her only daughter? True, Linda had been the proprietor behind the forced engagement to a man she didn't even know she would be happy with, and would reprimand her for sometimes the smallest instances that seemed trivial to most others, but... it was still her mother. And speaking of him, what of Walter? She didn't love him, but what of his feelings? Would he mourn? Grieve for her loss? 

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Don't do it."

A voice from behind her caused the brunette to turn her head and lock eyes with him- the Third Class boy she had seen earlier, with the bright red hair. His voice was soft in tone, but not in volume, and was a soothing tenor that made her heart skip a beat. "Stay back," Elise told him, her voice nearly cracking. "D-Don't come any closer!"

Simon's expression was still as soft as his words, and he did the opposite of what he was told. "Come on, here, just-" his outstretched arm caught the woman's line of vision. "-give me your hand, I'll help you back over."

"Stay where you are!" she all but squeaked out again, her hands tightly gripping the rail as she turned back to face the water. "I mean it! I'm going to let go!"

The silence that lingered was powerful, but not as so as the words that soon left the male's mouth. "...No, you won't."

Elise whipped her head back to face him, her expression now twisted into a look of almost offense. "Excuse you?" she whisper-shouted. "What do you mean, 'no I won't?'" She shook her head, staring back at the redhead. "Don't you dare attempt to say what I will or won't do. You don't even know me!"

A shrug of the man's surprisingly broad shoulders, hugged by that same plum-colored button-up. "Well," he started, gazing at her from a clump of hair that flew in front of his hazel eyes. "If you were really going to jump, you would have done so already."

"Because you're distracting me!" she retorted with a groan of annoyance. "Now go away, leave me alone!"

Behind her, Simon let out a sigh before biting his lower lip. "I can't, I'm involved in this now," he stated, then proceeded to pull a rubber band from the pocket of his trousers as he tied his locks back in a messy ponytail. "And if you let go, I'm just going to have to jump in after you."

The brunette's lips fell open in mild shock. "Don't be a fool," she chastised. "You'd die if you did that."

"I'm a good swimmer," was the reply, the redhead untying the laces of his combat boots.

Elise blinked rapidly from the onslaught of the wind hitting her face. "Y-You know what I mean," she shot back to him. "The fall alone would kill you, it's too far down."

One boot hit the floor. "It would hurt, yes," he started his response. "I'm not saying it wouldn't. However..." Another thump on the deck, and the second boot joined its mate. "I'm much more concerned about the temperature of the water than anything. Especially with how cold it would be."

The woman paused then, gazing down at the sea before turning back and staring at her companion with a mixture of annoyance and now, uncertainty. "...How cold, exactly?" she murmured.

Another shrug. "Freezing, possibly a couple degrees warmer at the very most," Simon stated matter-of-factly. He stepped more towards where the girl was leaning, adjusting the suspender strap on his left shoulder. "...Have you ever been to Romania before?" 

The sudden question caused Elise to cock her head slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"They have some of the coldest winters you'll come across," he stated. "I was born and raised there, in the smaller province of Wallachia. I can remember, back when I was a child... my father would always take me out into the woods; there was this huge lake on the outskirts, and I..." he paused, taking a breath and pursing his lips. "I fell through this patch of thin ice. And I'm telling you straight up- water that cold," he gestured down with a finger. "Like down there, it'll hit you like the sensation of thousands of the sharpest needles in the world stabbing you in every inch of your body, all at the same time." 

The redhead leaned against the railing then, his face expressionless. "You can't breathe, you can't think about anything other than the pain..." he sighed, stepping back. "Which is why I'm really not looking forward to jumping in there after you, but at this rate, I don't exactly have a choice."

Her breathing heavy, Elise swallowed as she struggled to speak. "...You're insane," she finally voiced.

She was shocked to see a small grin spread across the male's lips. "That's what everyone says, but..." he leaned in to state in a serious manner, "With all due respect, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the edge of a ship right now."

_Shit._

He had her there.

"Here, give me your hand," he whispered, once more outstretching his arm to her. "I'll help you."

She paused then, taking a moment to think, and breathe, and come to her senses.

Slowly, she reached over and took his hand.

Taking small steps, the brunette twisted her body to where she could turn around fully and face the person who had basically talked her out of suicide. When she looked up and their eyes met, she was finally able to take him in more fully. His vibrant red hair, striking golden eyes, smooth peach skin, and dark eyelashes stared back at her softly, and she felt herself relax just the slightest bit when his full lips curved up into a gentle smile of relief. "...I'm Simon Belmont," he introduced calmly.

Simon.

She repeated his name in her head, and it was fitting for him. Simple, yet strong.

A soft exhale from her. "...Elisabeth Entwhistle-Trost," she too spoke her name in a shaky breath.

In response, Simon let out a soft chuckle. "I might need to have you write that down for me," he joked, to which a quiet, but surprisingly earnest laugh spilled from her lips. He stopped for a brief second, as if in thought, then added. "Elisabeth seems like a bit of a mouthful by itself."

The brunette pursed her lips with a small raise of her shoulders. "It... is a little much," she admitted. "I prefer Elise, honestly."

Gazing at her, the redhead almost lost himself in the woman's dark blue eyes. "Then, may I call you Elise?" he questioned.

She smiled softly. "...You may."

With a firm, but gentle grip, Simon moved his other arm to wrap around Elise's waist, grabbing a steady hold of her. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I've got you. I'm not gonna let go, I promise."

For added leverage, the woman moved her free hand to wrap around Simon's neck, and with a single lift, she was off her feet, over the railing, and back on the ship. And yet, something on top of feeling the floor under her feet made her feel at ease again.

Somehow, simply being embraced in Simon's arms, despite having just officially met him only minutes ago, allowed her a moment of respite. A moment of calm.

Elise felt safe.

Just as she did the first moment when she looked into his eyes.

But the moment she turned to move, she tripped over the hem of her dress, falling to the deck and accidentally taking the redhead with her. "You alright?" he quickly asked, his eyes darting from her face to her arms and back.

The brunette gave him a nod of her head. "I'm fine," she answered. "Just wishing they would make shoes with thicker heels now, I suppose."

"What's going on up here?"

Almost instantly, their heads both shot up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice shouting in their direction, which turned out to be one of the ship's crewmen along with three other officers.

At that moment, they had just realized the look of the position they were currently in- Elise on the floor, flustered and breathing through her mouth; Simon above her, seemingly straddling her hips, and his boots discarded off to the side.

A look of annoyed revelation spread across the handsome redhead's face, and he sighed as the crewmen shouted at him to get off and back away, while the other two sped off at the order of the commanding officer to "fetch the master at arms- and Master Bernhard".

They were both in deep trouble now.


End file.
